"it's easy to be a bad writer, but it's hard to wake up each day and devote a chunk of your life to bad writing."

Thursday, October 1, 2009

ANOTHER GLIMPSE OUT THE WINDOW

another glimpse out the windowin this roomI sit and grapplewith the truthand the liesand that wide open spacein betweenthat diminishes dailyuntil deathwhen either everything makes senseor none of it ever did.on the wallsare my mapsmarked up with felt penall the places I’ve beenbut there are so many moreleft to seethen from the streetthe clip clop of high heelsand here comesa pretty girla petite little thingin a pink dresswith blonde hairand knee high bootsgoddamn!she slides down the sidewalklike a teardroptearing a canyon into this momentof my lifeshe doesn’t knowshe’s the only womanleft in the worldbut she isin my world, anywayand then she’s gonearound the cornerand I’m alonestaring at an empty streetan empty glassthe mapson my wallsmake me come alive againwondering just where the hellI’ll end up next

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About Me

Jackson Warfield was born in a small town in New Hampshire on a dead end road. He has traveled widely and worked a variety of jobs, from digging ditches to walking dogs. He writes for entertainment, his own and others.